


For Elizabeth

by Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)



Series: Tom Keen, International Badass of Mystery [2]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Bedtime Snuggle Buddies, Casual Sex, Episode Related, Episode S3E04, F/M, Gay Sex, M/M, Missing Scene, Undercover, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 04:47:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5078365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He goes to bed with Asher Sutton for Elizabeth's sake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Elizabeth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alliknowisifeelalive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alliknowisifeelalive/gifts).



> For Alliknowisifeelalive, for encouraging more Tom/Ressler smut because of that hot wall-shoving scene in 3.04. (Even if this doesn't quite get to the Tom/Ressler... I'm hoping upcoming episodes will facilitate. Heh.)

He loves Elizabeth. It's one of the few things he's ever been certain about in live. One bright, beautiful truth amidst years of lies. He loves Liz, so much that if it were possible he'd shed all those years, names, identities - everything he'd been when he wasn't with her - and just be Tom Keen. He loves her, and he's going to cling to that truth, do whatever it takes to help her. And he loves this, too. This purpose, this bright and beautiful thing that he's chasing that isn't just made up of lies and money. Even if he has to fall back into old behaviours to achieve it.

But none of that stops his cock from jerking in his jeans as Donald Ressler slams him up against the wall with his hand around Tom's throat.

For one brief moment Tom keeps his eyes closed and _remembers_. The salty sweet taste of Ressler's skin, the clench and flutter of his taut, muscular chest as Tom's teeth bit a brand of pleasure into his collarbone. Drunken kisses tasting of hops and strong hands holding him down as their bodies rutted together. He sure as hell remembers that beautiful thick cock.

He remembers the dark, hungry look in Ressler's eyes when Tom had asked him to fuck him into that dingy mattress. He'd been on assignment then, of course. Trying to get close to him, get information from him. Ressler was far from the first man - or woman - who Tom had seduced in his line of work. But the sex had been exceptionally satisfying. When his ploy had failed Tom really couldn't have said if he'd been more disappointed by that failing, or by the lost opportunity to share Ressler's bed again.

The part of him that's already half hard just from being pinned up against the wall wonders if he could do it again now. Wonders if Ressler will take the bait if he goes pliant in his arms, lets his lips part in invitation, yields to the desire he can still see buried underneath the lawman's self-righteous anger. Wants to goad him until that anger turns into passion.

But that won't get him where he needs to be. It certainly won't get him closer to helping Liz. So he clamps down on that feral, needy desire and leaves Donald Ressler feeling completely unsatisfied and with nothing accomplished.

When he agrees to Cooper's proposal, it's mostly to help Liz. Only a tiny bit of his acceptance is a smug desire to go against Ressler. And when he realizes his way in is New York's Hottest Bachelor Number 5, well... he's won over tougher marks.

He doesn't feel guilty for responding to the look in Asher Sutton's eyes, for the leer in his voice and the suggestiveness in his smile. Playing the part of the sexual conquest has nothing to do with how he feels or what he once had with Elizabeth. Still has, he thinks, still has. She called! He has to believe she still cares. So this has nothing to do with Liz and everything to do with the way his nerves have been crackling with need just from one hard shove in the hallway, from Ressler's fingers digging into his skin. From the way the heat of the other man's body and the wry realization that the man's still wearing Aqua di Gio had made his pulse race.

And if channeling that desire into a perfect performance means getting it out of his system at the same time, then it's certainly the most pragmatic decision he can make.

Sutton's Manhattan penthouse is as far as it could be from that dingy apartment in Dresden where he'd begged Donald Ressler to make him come on his cock. But the dance is the same. Goading on Sutton's dominance as he pushes Tom down onto expensively smooth cotton sheets, fighting back just enough to keep him interested. Gasping at the brand of Sutton's teeth against his skin, grinding his cock up against the other man's stomach. Letting his voice drop to a growl, equal parts challenge and desperation. "I want you to wreck me."

Sutton's deliciously savage, far more than his pretty-boy exterior would lead one to believe. Tom revels in it, rutting back onto his cock, fingers scrabbling for purchase at his expensive sheets. He goads Sutton on, gasps for more, cries out as the thrusts of his hips ignite shocks of pleasure. None of what Tom says as he pants and begs for his cock is a lie. He has to be interesting enough to keep Sutton's attention, to keep him coming back for more, but Tom's strength is in his becoming. In feeling this, living each hard, punishing thrust of Sutton's cock, his own hard and aching for sensation, dripping precum onto the sheets.

In the moment, it's real. Almost. Because the thought that he's doing this for Liz is still his bright shining beacon, even as the world whites out around him with pleasure. Even as he cries out and clenches around Sutton's cock, coming in hot spurts, feeling Sutton finally take his pleasure with a triumphant yell.

He's doing this for Liz. But the one that he thinks of in that moment of ecstasy isn't her.

~~~


End file.
